Feb 20, 2012

Parsua Bashi’s Nylon Road is, as the subtitle tells us, “a graphic memoir of coming of age in Iran”. Bashi tells her story through a series of encounters between her present-day self and several incarnations of her past self. Current Parsua Bashi and her younger selves discuss many things: feminism in the Western and Eastern worlds; censorship, freedom of speech, and responsibility; democracy and religion; immigration, racism and multiculturalism; and so on. These meetings form a non-linear narrative that reveals Bashi’s past, explains how she came to live in Switzerland and to be apart from her family, and shows the reader the evolution of her thinking.

I should start by saying that I really liked Bashi’s art: she has an eye for detail and is particularly good at facial expressions. However, the aesthetic appeal of Nylon Road is somewhat spoiled by the fact that the panels are crammed full of text. The excessive amount of speech balloons and narration in the same panel draws attention away from the art and make the pages look very messy and confusing. Reading Nylon Road was a disorienting experience: I’m very used to comics, but even so I didn’t quite know where to look. I really wish Bashi had adopted a strategy similar to Brooke Gladstone’s in The Influencing Machine and included a couple of pages of text-only in addition to the panels. This would have allowed for more information to be included without compromising the look or readability of the book.

Another thing that kept me from loving Nylon Road was the fact that the story felt a bit directionless. I have nothing against non-linearity, but I’m not quite sure what purpose it served here. A slice of life story doesn’t necessarily need to have a clearly defined beginning, middle and ending, I know, but in this case I keenly felt the lack of something, anything, that tied Bashi’s story into a more cohesive whole.

Finally, there were some moments in the book that bothered me, like the remark in the panel below about the “fat, spinstery old virgin” who hated pretty girls and made sure they were not allowed to access “indecent” art books at the university library. I can’t help but wish that a book that deals with gender inequality had paused to address of the fact that shaming women for their looks and lack of sexual experience is part of the exact same problem it’s trying to address. And this remains true even if the woman in question is complicit in an oppressive system. The “fat, spinstery old virgin” comment is made by one of Bashi’s past selves, but as the panel on the right shows us, her present self still doesn’t acknowledge it as problematic. And lest I sound like like I’m advocating a preachy, heavy-handed approach to troubling content, this is the way the book is structured: past Parsua Bashi says problematic things and her present self addresses them and explains how she came to depart from that line of thinking. So had this also happened in this case, it would have fit with the rest of the book.

Having said all this, there was plenty that I did like about Nylon Road too: first of all, I liked the fact that Bashi never essentialises either her culture or Western culture. When it comes to gender equality in particular, she sees the western world’s shortcomings for what they are. She also sees Iran’s current political system as just that – a political system, rather than a manifestation of anything intrinsic and changeless about her people’s culture or religion. I also really liked that Nylon Road illustrates how Bashi moved beyond a simplistic lumping together of Islam and everything that’s wrong with totalitarian regimes like Iran’s. We see her move away from this kind of easy, immediate answer towards complex questions most people find it difficult to even frame.

Nylon Road is not my new favourite graphic memoir, but it was an interesting read all the same – especially because it departs from the kind of simplistic, straightforward narrative about gender-based oppression in Muslim countries that tends to be championed in the West.

14 comments:

Kelly: I wouldn’t say “worst enemies”, but it’s definitely very useful to remember that we were raised in a sexist society, just like men were, and can therefore be every bit as prone to perpetuating harmful ideas about what a woman’s “failings” are.

Ooh...I see what you mean about the panels. My eye doesn't quite know where to look first. *-* Sounds like it could be a conversation started for many readers with the issues it deals with (and doesn't)....interesting review. Thanks for sharing!

Wow, those panels do look "a bit" overfilled! I've hardly read any graphic novels (actually, only one - Persepolis, which I loved), and also didn't use to read comic books as a kid. I think partly the reason was that I had the exact same problem you had with Nylon Road: I didn't know where to look first. As a result, I never got into the habit of making sense of graphic novels and find them somehow intimidating.

I love how you pick up on that spinstery virgin line. Being aware of these subconscious limitations women put on themselves is something I'm trying to get better at, so thank you for helping my sensibilisation along by pointing them out!

It does seem as of this book was a little crowded, and I am not sure how well I would do with all that information packed into such a tiny space with the drawings, but the plot sounds enticing, and like something that would interest me.

I liked very much what you said about text hiding the wonderful artwork. I haven't seen that in graphic novels yet, but I have seen that in comics, where the story writer wants to tell too many things. Having a few pages of text in between as you have said is definitely a wonderful idea. I haven't heard of Brooke Gladstone's 'The Influencing Machine'. I want to read that now. I liked very much your observations on what the author says about the librarian, especially this sentence - "I can’t help but wish that a book that deals with gender inequality had paused to address of the fact that shaming women for their looks and lack of sexual experience is part of the exact same problem it’s trying to address." Thanks for this wonderful review.

I see that Lev Grossman's book has disappeared from your 'currently reading' list :) I can't wait to hear your thoughts on it.

"it departs from the kind of simplistic, straightforward narrative about gender-based oppression in Muslim countries that tends to be championed in the West."

Ah, that is refreshing and I would love to see more of such books being published. However, I am not sure if this is for me. The panels seem a bit "full" with so much text! The fat-virgin-spinster thing so often recurs in fiction and it bothers me a lot, especially if it appears in a book that wants to discuss gender politics.

GMR: I'm glad it's not just me! But yes, there's a lot of interest here all the same.

Kathy: I thought it was worth reading yes, even if not up there with books like Persepolis.

Kelly: That was me for all of last year, but I've been reconnecting with the medium this year.

Bettina: Most graphic novels are a lot easier to follow than this, but yes, it's all a matter of practice. I completely understand being intimidated when you're new to them! One I'd recommend to you is Fun Home by Alison Bechdel. From what I know of your taste I think it would be a good one for you.

Zibilee: It WAS interesting, but it was really a pity the pages weren't organised better. So much potential.

Amy: I've been trying, yep :P

Jenny: I know, right?

Vishy: You SO need to read The Influencing Machine! I thought of you when I read it, actually, because it's the kind of idea-oriented book you usually love. About Grossman, I'll drop you an e-mail soon (I owe you one anyway from a few weeks ago. I'm so sorry!)

Tasha: It wasn't tedious exactly, but yeah, the pages could have been organised a lot better.

Iris: Me too, and I was glad that this was one despite its shortcomings. But yeah, I wish there had been one moment of acknowledgement that this was a problem, even if brief :\